Hey folks. I've got another chapter here. My updating is still slow, but I do what I can.

Yes, I have changed the title. In truth I found my previous one a bit lame. I knew I could do better, and yes, I believe this one is better ;)

Chapter 15

Owen appeared to possess acute hearing. Either that or he had guessed correctly, because when they pulled the lever of the hatch, the door opened immediately. The unoiled hinges shrieked as the thick door opened. Fortunately, the alarm was so loud that nobody had heard a thing. Moreover, all of the soldiers were called to the battle stations and near the cargo hold, there were none.

"Everybody, follow the professors. They know which way to go. Arnold, John, you stay by their sides. If you encounter a hostile…"

"We shoot 'm, got it." John confirmed.

"What about them?" someone asked.

The question concerned the unconscious guards.

"Once they'll wake up, we'll be long gone."

As the group of people slither like a snake from the cargo hold, into the hallway and down the first stairs, Owen watched. He was searching the line for two people in particular. It didn't take long for the first to show himself. A whistle was enough to notify Stan that he was asked for. Stan was one of the few guys with a gun as well as one of the few people Owen knew well enough to trust him with his life. Stan had served in Afghanistan, but got decommissioned when he received an almost fatal injury from a roadside bomb. Shards had been littered throughout his chest, yet miraculously, none of those nine shards had hit anything vital. Although he himself had, after recovery, been no less eager to serve his country, his wife saw this a warning from God not to tempt fate any further. As a result of all this, Stan had come to work as security guard on Isla Nublar. What none could've predicted, was that he had put himself in even greater danger than before.

Owen had gotten to know Stan during their exhaustive journey from the beach to Station Beta. Time and again, he had shown himself helpful to his fellow travellers. This had been a reason for Owen to get himself some background information about the man.

"There he is." Stan said, awaking Owen from his flashback.

"Hey, Ian!"

Malcolm also seemed to be aroused from thinking. When he stepped out of the tail section of the group, he sensed that Owen was waiting for the line to end before addressing the issue he had on his mind.

"So, as you know the frigate is here to take us back. There is no reason not to assume that a battle with this ship is going to unfold for them to achieve that. I'm not sure who has the advantage at the moment, but I think we need to make sure that we have it."

"Where are you going with this?" Ian demanded, despite knowing very well what the ranger had in mind.

"I want to dismantle as much as possible. Create chaos and what not."

Ian shook his head, placed a hand to his temple and let out a sigh.

"As much as I like chaos, I'm not sure why you want me for this."

"I need someone I can trust and that I know to be brave and strong enough to help me out."

"Why not ask Alan, or Arie?"

"I figured them to be a little…" he paused.

"Old?" Stan filled in.

Visualising the old Dutchman in action was a funny thought. They sniggered. Despite laughing as well, Ian had grown serious admiration for the elder man. He had been more than resilient for his age, especially under the hostile circumstances that they had been facing time for the past few days. Still, he agreed with Owen that asking him for this was a bit too much.

"But why not ask one of your crew? Why me?" he asked again.

"Because, you've seen this ship before and you're somewhat familiar with it, yes?"

Ian exploited his mind, hoping to find an escape, though the ranger's reasoning was rock-solid. In truth Ian could think of nothing to refute his arguments, hence let out a sigh of accord.

"Alright then, I think I know what you might be looking for. Follow me."

.

Pavel had joined the captain on the bridge. In silence he was staring through the huge window in front of the steering wheel. He squeezed his eyelids together to see better the nearing figure in the distance. It was a vessel of the US Navy, that was certain. He had seen his fair share of them when working as a spy for Russia. In contrast to the masses, he still regarded the United States as an enemy to the motherland. When the cold war had ended, he had persisted on landing a secret attack on the US before they did. He had 'kindly' been told to let it go. Instead he had participated in a group called SPEC, the Sovjet Communistic Extremists Cooperation, that had shared his point of view. He had quickly risen through their ranks and his input in their recruiting, planning and most of all smuggling had made him a wealthy man. On the other hand, it had also placed him on both Russia's and America's most wanted list. If he was caught by either, he'd be dead for sure.

He had sought refuge in Ukraine, where the extremists' group still had a powerful influence. He had lived there for quite some time, doing whatever he liked, whenever he liked it. After a while though, he had begun missing the action and decided to pick up one of his old habits. Smuggling. With all the markets covered he had chosen a completely different path. In a documentary, he had witnessed people laying down serious cash for complete dinosaur skeletons. This unexploited area of illegal trading had been the distraction he had been looking for.

"It's a frigate. You can see it from the shape of their bow." Spartak said from behind his binoculars.

Spartak was ex-military and had served the interests of the same group Pavel had been a member of. Thus far remained out of the businessman's way, however now that a Navy ship had presented itself, it was time for him to step in.

As an old friend, he had joined Pavel on his mission, yet this was not the whole story behind it. SPEC had gladly provided Pavel with troopers for his smuggling, were it not for thirty percent of all the gains. To make sure Pavel didn't hold anything back, Spartak was assigned as his co-commander. He had been so kind as to have pointed out that the for every casualty, another percent of the income would go to the organisation. According to Pavel's calculations, he had only about forty percent left now. As if it was his fault that these men failed to do their job. Still, the contents of his cargo hold were so valuable, the venture would still be profitable.

"Can we take them?" Pavel asked, supressing his anger over SPEC's greed.

"We have more fire-power, yet they are more mobile." Spartak contemplated.

"But can we take them?" he repeated impatiently.

"I think it's about fifty-fifty."

"In other words, you don't know!" Pavel snapped.

The captain bit his lip. He had agreed to sail for this assignment because he had been afraid of getting into real combat. Dropping them off on the island and wait for them to return, no hazards involved. Now this. He was not keen on combat. He was a coward, who'd hide as best he could until the fight was over.

"It doesn't matter anyway. As long as we've got hostages, they have to keep us alive."

Then, the news came nobody had expected.

"Sir… We've got a problem…"

The whole bridge turned as one man to the messenger. He was panting from his sprint up the long stairs.

"The prisoners… they… they escaped!"

"WHAAAAT?!" Pavel cried out.

"The camera's indicate that your Doctors are leading them towards the life-rafts.

"If they manage to get off board, there's nothing that keeps that frigate from sinking us!" Spartak advised.

"I thought you said it was fifty-fifty?" the captain questioned.

"Yea, perhaps I failed to mention those are the chances for getting either captured or be killed."

His interlocutor shrunk to half his size behind the steering wheel.

"If they escape-.."

"They won't! You, you, with me. And bring those guns." Pavel said determined.

He had enough of those bloody Americans. He had only kept them alive as hostages, but now he just wanted to kill every last one of them. When he left the bridge, Spartak heaved a relaxed sigh. Finally, he could do things his way without that hot-tempered Russian intervening.

.

Ian sneaked across the hall and stopped in front of a door. He gestured his two companions to come over silently. He placed his ear on the cold iron and listened carefully.

"If my estimation is correct, then behind this door is the turning axis of the larboard cannon." he whispered.

"Is it guarded?"

"I have no idea, but it doesn't seem to me that someone needs to operate here. Everything goes from the control room."

Owen counted to three with his hand, after which Ian opened the door as fast he could and the others barged in. In the middle of the room was an enormous cogwheel of which the axis went all the way up to the roof. Against the sides were various pipes, beams and panels, all leading to unknown parts of the ship. They were welcomed by a lot of engine noise, however apart from that there was no-one.

"Great. And what do we do here?" Owen asked.

"No idea."

"Seriously?" Stan let out.

"Hey, it was your idea to disable their weapons. I only brought you here."

Owen smacked himself in the face.

"Fine, we'll have a look around."

The three men investigated every possible outlet, wire and panel. After a few minutes, they were spooked by voices on the hallway, yet they passed by almost immediately. They had no reason to expect anyone in here and were likely in a hurry to get to where they were truly needed. Eventually, Stan's eye fell on a particular cupboard next to the cogwheel.

"Guys, I think this is what we need."

The other two joined him as he forced the iron covering off, revealing the underlying wires.

"If this is what I think it is, cutting it will disable the rotation mechanism." he said, pulling out his carpet knife.

"And if it isn't?"

"Then I'll probably fry myself." he laughed.

Just then, an excruciatingly loud noise filled the room as the cogwheel began to turn. Stan said a quick prayer and sliced all wires at once. The wheel hampered for a moment and then halted, along with the noise it created. Simultaneously, a faint alarm went off.

"How did you know that would work?" Ian said, patting the man on his shoulder.

"I've fixed a few cars in my early days. It's almost the same."

Before Malcolm could respond, Owen hinted them it was time to leave. They snuck back to the door, however when he placed his hand on the heck, Stan and Ian stopped him. People were once again passing by. Luckily they spoke English this time.

"I want them all dead, you understand?"

Ian recognized Pavel's voice.

"Yes sir."

"And have someone to check on the raptors in the cargo-hold. I want to make sure they didn't escape as well!"

Only when the sound of his agitated cursing died away, Ian dared to speak his mind.

"Raptors? What was he talking about?"

"From what I deduce, they captured a few." Stan said.

Ian glanced at him annoyed. That was obvious, that was what Pavel had said. What he had been wanting to know was how. He looked at Owen. The man looked intrigued by this new piece of information. If he would set loose these raptors, they could wreak havoc among the crew and turn the battle to their favour surely. It would also cover their escape perfectly. Ian recognized something he didn't like at all.

"No. No-no-no. I see what you're thinking. No way. No!"

"Think of it, releasing those velociraptors is ideal for our situation."

"Ideal? It's insane! Those things don't choose a side. You think they'll shake your hand when you break them out? Hell man, they bite it off before going on to your other!"

"Stan?"

"Sorry chief, I agree with Malcolm on this. It sounds too dangerous."

"Okay, then we'll do it this way. You get as fast as possible to the lifeboats and make sure everyone is on it. Hold the last one for me."

"What are you up to?"

"I'm going to find the raptors. If I'm not there in one hour, leave without me."

End of chapter.